


Birthday Present

by Spica88



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Gen, Hurt, Hurt Noctis Lucis Caelum, Hurt/Comfort, Near Death Experiences, Poison, Whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-09-24
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:15:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26551957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spica88/pseuds/Spica88
Summary: Noctis has the best intentions when he sets out alone on a misleading hunt.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 17





	1. Chapter 1

Noctis pumped his legs as fast as he could. Sweat poured down his face and neck, streaming down his chest and the ridges in his abdomen. He threw himself across the finish line with a final burst of energy, crossing a half second behind Ignis. He doubled over, gasping and clutching at the cramp in his side. Ignis pushed him upright by his shoulders, forcing him to stand straight while he cursed himself internally. He had almost beaten Ignis this time but he was just _so_ damn fast. At least today, he’d given him a run for his money. Ignis was clearly winded; face flushed, chests heaving. The grey ribbed tank top he wore clung to him as he paced with his hands resting on the top of his head while he regained his breath. Noctis had torn his own shirt off after mile two, modesty abandoned in the summer heat.

“Time to weigh in”, Gladio said, pulling out his log and waving Noctis over to the scale.

Noctis slogged over, exhausted from the race and wanting nothing more than to go home and shower. He stepped on the scale and his lips turned down when he saw the number stop at *157* LBS.

“How does someone who lives off fast food lose six pounds over night?” Gladio asked, shaking his head.

“Probably because you just made me run five miles after sparring with you for an hour,” Noctis answered. It’s still almost as much as Ignis.”

Ignis’s eyebrows pulled together.

“Ignis doesn’t have to warp his measly body weight into monsters that are five times his size and take them down in a single hit,” Gladio said.

“Well maybe if you didn’t work me so hard I’d be able to put some weight on,” Noctis argued.

“Nah,” Gladio said, scribbling in his log. “Up your calories by 400 a day.”

The corners of Noctis’s mouth turned up before he could catch himself and Gladio glowered at him.

“Protein and vegetables, not beer and pizza,” He clarified.

Noctis sighed and rolled his eyes as he pulled his thin, hooded shirt over his head and started towards home.

“Aren’t you going to shower?” Ignis asked, noting that he was heading in the opposite direction of the locker room.

“Oh, yeah. I was just going to do that at home. Prompto’s coming over later and I wanted to straighten up a little bit before he gets there,” Noctis explained.

“I see. Is there anything in particular that you’d like me to prepare for dinner?” Ignis asked.

“Don’t worry about us tonight, Specs. We’ll just order a-”

Gladio’s huff cut Noctis off before he could say the word “pizza”.

“Nevermind,” Noctis muttered under his breath.

“I’ll see you at 7:00,” Ignis chuckled, grabbing his duffle bag.

Noctis grunted unhappily in his direction and walked off the track and across the field towards the road. His spirits lifted a bit as he got closer to the center of town and he picked up the pace, eager to get home, but he was thirsty so he ducked into a small convenience store that was about halfway between his apartment and the training center. He grabbed a bottle of water and a protein bar, then scanned the aisle as his stomach grumbles. Feeling no enthusiasm for the brown rice, plain chicken and steamed vegetables that would undoubtedly be tonight’s dinner, he looked over his shoulder and snatched a bag of potato chips, internally flipping Gladio off. He made his way to the front of the store and tossed his purchases on the counter. When he looked down to grab for his wallet, he noticed that his snacks had landed on a poster that had been taped to the counter.

Juvenile Sabertusk on the loose west of Insomnia. Collect hunt from local tipster. Provide proof of completion by presenting distinctive green horn located above animal’s nose and return to collect reward of 8000 G.

“ _8000 gil,”_ Noctis thought, “ _No way. That’s gotta be a type-o. They must have accidentally added an extra zero.”_

8000 gil. That was a lot of money for a single sabertusk. Hell, it was a lot of money period. He thought of Prompto. His birthday was this Friday, and Noctis knew how badly he wanted the newest generation game consol, but there was no way he could afford it. Noctis had bought one for himself a few weeks ago when it was first released. Even though he was royalty, the treasurer kept him on a strict budget. He was provided with the finest weapons, clothing, food, training, education, security, and a decent apartment, but he was given a stringent monthly allowance for entertainment, most of which went to gaming and fishing supplies. He’d had to save up for months for his consol, and it had been well worth the money. He didn’t have a lot of time to play, but if he wasn’t sleeping, training, or attending some dumb banquet or assembly, he and Prompto were sprawled out in his apartment in front of the TV. He’d tried to give Prompto as spare set of keys and told him to come play whenever he wanted, even if Noctis wasn’t home, but he could never get him to accept the invitation. He wouldn’t be able to refuse if Noctis presented it as a gift, and 8000 gil was more than enough to cover the cost of the system, plus an extra controller and a few games. He would probably even have some left over.

“Will that be all, your highness?” asked the attendant, a gruff but good-natured middle-aged man named Juno.

“Is this for real?” Noctis blurted out, snapping out of his reverie.

“What? Never seen a bounty posting before?” Juno asked.

“No…I mean, of course I have. The bounty just seems high.”

“Didn’t start off that way. Hunter’s kept picking up the bounty and we never saw ‘em again. Got to the point where others started complaining that the hunt was too dangerous for the price so we had to raise it. Several of ‘em went off after it and haven’t been seen since. Why do you ask? You aren’t thinking of going after it, are ya?”

“No. Of course not. If professional hunters can’t handle to job, I certainly have no business in it. I just like to keep a handle on where the taxpayer dollars are going,” Noctis lied smoothly.

 _This is going to be easy,_ he thought. Those hunters must have just gotten busy with higher ranking bounties and never pursued this one, lucky for him. He’d have to take care to make sure that the tipsters didn’t find out that they were overpaying for hunts. He’d accidentally-on purpose let Gladio get a few extra licks in so it seemed like the battle was more difficult than he expected it would actually be.

“Smart decision,” Juno said. “Anything else for ya today?”

“Actually, I’ll just take the bottle of water,” Noctis said, sliding the chips and protein bar over to Juno. “I’ve been meaning to cut down on my impulse buying…”He explained.

Juno gave him a quizzical look but shrugged and rang up the bottle of water. Noctis paid him, stuffed the bottle in his back pocket and forced himself to exit the store at a normal pace. He scanned the streets, busy with end of day traffic and pulled his hood over his head. He looked back over his shoulder to make sure that Juno wasn’t still watching him before he took off in a jog towards the west side of the city. Noctis hoped he hadn’t made Juno too suspicious; the little store was on Gladio’s way home too, and he stopped in frequently. If Juno happened to mention the conversation, would Gladio think he’d have reason to take on the hunt alone? No time to think about that now. He had about two hours before Prompto was supposed to meet him, so he’d better focus on the task at hand.

Luckily, the west side of the city was protected by a sahagin infested river rather than a guarded gate. He’d never get through the gates at any of the other entrances without being questioned. He headed for the river and said a silent prayer of thanks for the abandoned wooden fishing boat he’d found by the west bank about a year ago. It had been tethered to a nearby tree, no owner in sight. Noctis couldn’t figure out why anyone would leave it, there was really nothing wrong with it other than being a little outdated. He guessed the previous owner had probably gotten careless, maybe dozed off or something, and fallen prey to the sahagins, a tragic fate for him but Noctis was grateful for the boat nevertheless. It had taken him several days before the sahagins would even let him near the water, but eventually he’d wizened up and started bringing food with him; jerky, old chicken, leftover ham bones, whatever he could smuggle away without it being noticed. Sahagins lived in colonies and generally stayed in the same area for life. They had very good memories, and rarely attacked unless they were threatened or provoked. It had taken some time, but eventually Noctis had gotten to the point where, so long as he brought snacks, they hardly bothered him. It had been worth the effort to take the boat out to deeper water where the only competition he had were the sahagins; the fishing was first class.

Worried someone else would come along with the same idea that he had, he’d started pulling the boat from the water when he was done with it, hiding it in the mossy brush that grew along the riverbank. He uncovered the boat and pulled it into the water, reaching into his tackle box and unwrapping a pack of dried beef. A mother sahagin hissed lazily from her nest a few yards away and Noctis tossed her a strip of beef, which she snatched out of the air before returning her attention back to her eggs. He started paddling towards the middle of the river, excited that his plan was coming together. He reached the deepest part of the river, which meant that he would soon be leaving the part of the water that belonged to “his” sahagins. He knew from experience where their territory started and ended. He could see a cluster of reptiles on the far bank that were obviously becoming agitated at his presence had taken to the water and started swimming towards him. Before long the beasts were circling the small boat, hissing and slapping the surface of the water with their powerful tails. He knotted the tether around his waist and paddled a few more times to give the boat some momentum before standing carefully, sideways with his knees bent like he was riding a skateboard. He summoned his engine blade and waited till the very last second. Right before the front of the boat crashed into a sahagins open jaws, he threw the blade towards the bank and warped as far as he could. It wasn’t quite far enough though because his feet landed in ankle deep water and he used the leftover momentum of the warp to propel himself into a sprint. He heard hissing and snapping jaws too close behind him and felt sharp teeth graze the heel of his shoe as he pulled it from the water. He ran a good thirty yards before he risked a look behind him, but the sahagins had obviously lost interest and were headed back to the bank.

Out of danger for the moment, he slowed to a walk to survey the area; the flat, sandy earth was sparsely littered with scrubby, leafless bushes. A dazzling blue sky seemed to go on infinitely, soaring over the looming, purple peaked mountains that formed the border between Niflheim and Insomia. He was awestruck by the expanse of land infront of him; beautiful and unforgiving as a brightly colored but highly venomous snake. To lose his way out here would be a death sentence, so be carefully noted the position of the sun since there were little in the way of landmarks.

Now that he’d gotten here, he had to figure out how he was going to find the damned sabertusk. He had his beast whistle, but he quickly dismissed that idea. The beast might not even be in range, and if it was there was no telling what other monsters might hear it too. He could track it, but that could take days. Unfortunately, Gladio would come in handy right now. He could track just about anything as long as it had been in the area within a few days, picking out signs that most people couldn’t even see. Despite his best efforts, Noctis had picked up a few tricks from him over the years and he was confident he would be able to track the hunt down eventually, but there was no telling how long it might take.

He decided his best chance was to get the sabertusk to come to him. He walked for a mile or so until he found a spot with a few scattered bones, a good sign that something had been in the area recently. He scooped out a shallow nest in the dirt and laid out a package of predator bait, a trick that Ignis had taught him that they’d used successfully before. They usually used this technique when there were multiple hunts in one day and the group needed to split up. The key was to lay out the bait, then hide upwind and wait for the target to find it. While the subject was distracted, one person would attack from behind while the other stood guard and defended against other enemies. He’d never tried this maneuver alone before, but the second person was really just there as a precaution, and more often than not wound up not actually doing anything. Once the bait was set, he picked up a handful of sand and let it fall through his fingers, catching the breeze. He warped three times upwind, covering at least 50 yards without leaving footprints or a scent trail. He found a small cluster of the spiny bushes and crouched down between them, which offered little in the way of cover but it was better than nothing. All there was left to do now was wait and hope the sabertusk would catch the scent of the bait.

Noctis waited. And waited. He scanned the horizon every minute or so but after an hour of waiting he’d seen no signs of life. Out of time, he stood with a huff of frustration, working the cramps out of his legs from spending so long in a crouch. Disappointed, he walked back to collect the bait, as he intended to use it again tomorrow. He’d come back right after training. He’d spend all damn night out here if he had to. He wouldn’t make any plans tomorrow. He’d make up some excuse, like having work on his speech for the banquet next week, which was true but he had every intention of putting that off till the last possible minute. He would ask Ignis to cook enough tonight to have leftovers so that he had no reason to drop by. If Ignis thought he was actually taking some initiative towards his royal duties, he wouldn’t ask any questions or argue.

He stalked back towards the river, wondering how the hell he was supposed to get back across without any sabertusk scraps to distract the sahagins when he heard a dull roaring coming from the mountains behind him. His first thought was thunder, but there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. He turned around in time to see a massive aircraft cresting over the mountain peaks and moving towards him quickly. The aircraft was about 1000 yards away when he realized what it was.

“ _Magitek Dropship,”_ he thought, and his mouth went dry. The Nifleheim made carrier could hold anything, from cargo to dozens of armed mechanical soldiers to MA Hoplomachus, a heavily armored artillery machine that launched missiles from its arms. If there were even one of those MA’s on board, he might as well just lay down right now. They were difficult to take down with a full party; one man alone wouldn’t have a prayer of a chance. His mind wheeled as he considered his options. He quickly dismissed the thought of running, he was still at least a mile from the river and dropship was moving very fast. He could hide, but the only cover around were the spiny knee-high shrubs that speckled the landscape and they were little enough to conceal him, especially since he’d likely already been spotted any way. The only viable option he could see was to fight or die trying.

The dropship was a football field away now, close enough that he could see the seam of the cargo ramp as it opened and dispatched seven magitek troopers. Some of the tightness in his chest lifted when he saw the small troupe of mechanical soldiers. He could survive seven, maybe not totally unscathed, but that could be a blessing in disguise. Maybe now he wouldn’t have to intentionally let Gladio kick his ass to make it seem believable when he turned the sabertusk hunt in.

By this point, the MT’s were on the ground and the dropship had headed back over the mountains. The soldiers, one axeman, three swordsmen and three riflemen, started to assemble in a diamond formation, with the axeman in the center, the rifleman forming a triangle in the back and the swordsmen in the front. Now that Noctis knew he stood a good chance of living through the battle, his body started to react to the excitement. He could all but hear Ignis’s instructions

“ _Only fools rush in. Stand your ground and make them come to you,”_ his advisors voice sounded in his mind.

Noctis squared his shoulders and summoned Zwill Crossblades, needle sharp daggers that were nearly the length of short swords but feather light and cut through metal like butter. The band of soldiers began to approach, marching in tandem and a warm tingling started in his fingertips, gathering in his palms. It snaked up his arms, spreading across his chest and unfurling low in his belly, winding down his legs and pooling in the soles of his feet, as if his blood was singing out for the coming battle. The sensation was on the brink of pain and euphoria and a pleasured growl sounded low in his throat. The MT’s were getting closer, 30 yards now and he flexed and unflexed his fists around the hilt of the daggers. 20 yards and he bounced up and down on the balls of his feet. 10 yards and he thought he might jump out of his own skin. He darted forward, head on towards the center swordsman. At the last second, just as the MT raised it’s sword Noctis kicked his right foot out, hitting the dirt and sliding underneath the blade between the left and center swordsmen. He made an x with his daggers and the instant he felt steel hit iron he flung his arms out, severing the center axemans legs at the kneecaps. He continued sliding between the riflemen and once he was behind the ensemble, he flipped into his belly, digging the tips of the crossblades into the dirt like ice picks to stop himself and simultaneously using them as leverage to pull himself to his feet. Mere seconds had passed and the MT’s hadn’t even processed what was happening before he jumped high into the air, swapping his daggers for a lance and plunging downward onto the center rifleman, impaling it straight through the helmet before it even had a chance to turn around. He pulled the lance from the fallen MT’s helmet and thrust upwards, spearing the leftmost rifleman under the shoulder plate. The blade of the lance caught on its armor the precious seconds that Noctis wasted struggling to pull it free were going to be costly. He heard the crack of a gunshot as he dropped his weapon and turned towards the sound. The magic that allowed him to warp and conjure his armiger also granted him enhanced vision, hearing and reflexes. Normal human eyes wouldn’t have been able to see the bullet whizzing towards him, a mere twelve inches from the center of his chest. He thew his shoulder back, twisting to the side, avoiding a fatal blow but not escaping injury entirely. The bullet sliced through the top of his right arm and he gasped, clapping his hand over the blazing wound. He let the momentum of the impact send him skipping a few paces back, putting some distance between himself and the soldiers who had now split into two smaller groups. He risked a glance down to assess the damage to find that blood was already dripping from his fingertips. He would be alright as long as he could get the bleeding to stop, and he could if he had time but right now time was not something that he had and he knew he had no choice but to waste a potion. When he cracked the potion open, the pain almost immediately faded to an ignorable level and the blood loss all but stopped.

“Now you motherfuckers have pissed me off,” he growled to himself, summoning his greatsword and warping into the two swordsmen to his left. One dodged the attack, but he split the second one down the middle. He ducked as the other swordsman’s blade sliced over his head, so close that it rustled his hair. The instant the blade was clear he stood, facing the swordsman as gunfire rang out behind him. He leapt high into the air and flipped, planting his hands on the swordsman’s shoulders and vaulting himself over until he landed behind it. He wrapped both arms around its shoulders, pinning its arms behind its back and pushing it into the gunfire and towards the rifleman. Bullets pinged of the MT’s armor until its weight sagged. Noctis dropped the metal corpse that he’d used as a shield to the ground and jumped towards the rifleman with his engine blade drawn, skewering it through the breast plate. Noctis straightened, head whipping back and forth, searching for the final Magitek swordsman. He heard heavy footfalls approaching behind him, but they were not the footsteps he was expecting. Whatever was encroaching ran on more than two feet and the hair on the back of his neck prickled. He spun just in time to lock eyes with a green horned sabertusk, airborne, clawed feet outstretched and jaws open. He brought his blade up just as heavy paws struck him in the chest, knocking him flat on his back. The air rushed out of his lungs as the beast plunged down on him. It wailed in anger, trying to run forward but Noct’s blade had caught it just below the sternum the blade sliced through its belly, halving the already short remainder of its life and spilling hot blood and entrails. Noctis gagged as the putrid contents of the beast’s stomach saturated his clothes, using the hilt of his sword as a lever to push the corpse off of him. He got shakily to his hands and knees, still trying to get his breath back from the impact. His eyes swept the land as he pushed himself to his feet, zeroing in on the last MT which had been surrounded by four more green horned sabertusks.


	2. Chapter 2

His stomach dropped as the took in the bedlam in front of him, for there had not been one, but five sabertusks. One was dead, but between the remaining four and the last MT swordsman he’d gone from having one enemy left to five and his strength was fading fast. Two of the sabertusks broke away from the circle that had formed around the MT and bore down on him and split, coming at him from the sides. The one that came from the left jump forward first and he spun, flinging his sword out to the side and severed its head. He continued his spin to face the other beast but he wasn’t quite fast enough. The animal bounded into him, pinning him on his back with it’s weight as he struggled to swap his sword for a smaller weapon. He felt hot, rancid breath on his face and wrenched his head to the side, narrowly avoiding the jaws that snapped at his throat. Instead, the monster’s jaws clamped down hard on his left shoulder. Dagger sharp teeth sunk through the skin and deep into his muscle. He groaned, bucking to try and unbalance the heavy beast but it bit down harder until he felt his collarbone snap. He screamed as blinding pain ripped through the top of his chest, dropping his sword and punching the sabertusk hard in the side of the face. It snarled and bit down harder. Noctis growled in pain and fury, swiping for his gun. He had to fire several times, unable to get a good aim from this position with the animal jerking him back and forth but he finally made contact, blowing the beasts brains out the side of its head.

He groaned, rolling to his side to cradle his useless left arm but it seemed one of the two remaining sabertusks had been drawn to the commotion because it was running full speed towards him. He summoned his shield and started to pull his legs underneath it but the monster was already on him, jaws closing hard above his right knee. He cried out and brought the point of his shield down on the sabertusks neck as hard as he could, which wasn’t hard enough to do any real damage but the animal yelped and hopped back, giving him a chance to pull his leg under the protection of the shield but the sabertusk was back on him quickly. Teeth pierced through his right forearm and he dropped the shield, unable to hold on any longer. He grabbed desperately for something, anything out of his armiger with his left hand but it lay useless and unresponsive at his side. The sabertusk jerked its head back and forth and he could feel its teeth grinding down to the bones in his arm, shredding through his nerves and tendons. He flexed his upper arm, holding it tightly to his side in an attempt to keep the animal from completely ripping it off. He pulled his left knee across his body, trying to make contact but the sabertusk hopped deftly out of the way, keeping its jaws locked firmly in place. Noctis screamed into his teeth as his arm was torn to shreds, looking up to see that the last sabertusk had given up on the MT and was bounding towards him while the last MT, now looking worse for wear, staggered after it. He let his head fall back, hoping the creature would just go for his throat and end it quickly, when a massive bolt of lightning split the sky down the middle like a ripping seam. The thunderclap that followed was the equivalent of a thousand crashing trains, otherworldly and deafening. Ramuh materialized from the heavens, dwarfing the mountains in the horizon. The sabertusk released Noct’s arm with a yelp and skipped backwards as Ramuh’s judgement bolt came crashing down in a violent blast that reached from ground to sky. Noctis felt the earth beneath him quaking so violently that he was sure it would split open, sending him plummeting to the fiery core. The earsplitting blast of thunder that followed his judgement bolt was so ferocious that it shook the mountains in the distance, drowning out the dying screams of man, beast, and machine. Noctis cried out in fear and pain as the trembling earth ground his broken bones together, certain that Ramuh meant for him to die along with his enemies, but the lightning that cascaded down around him never struck his prone body.

Eventually, the storm ended, thunder fading to a distant rumble as Ramuh dissipated back into the heavens like a wisp of smoke, leaving behind him a shower of rain. Noctis lay gasping and shivering in a field of charred fur and metal corpses while the rain washed the tears and streaks of blood and brain matter from his face, matting his hair and creating a puddle of gore under his head. He examined his arm, which was a gruesome display of flayed skin and exposed muscle and sinew. He was either going into shock or most of his nerves had been severed because despite the damage it didn’t really hurt that bad, especially compared to his broken collar bone. He whined when his collarbone protested as he rolled onto his right side, using his elbow to push himself up enough to get his left foot underneath him. He managed to stand, swaying a bit as he favored his damaged leg. His chest tightened as he took in the setting sun and the harshness of his surroundings. He took a tentative step with his right leg, which immediately gave out as searing pain shot from his hip to his ankle and he went crashing hard back to the ground with a sharp cry. He reached desperately for a potion, but when he tried to squeeze his right hand to break the bottle his fingers wouldn’t move and the agony that blossomed from the wound in his arm sent the world spinning. He took quick, sharp breaths through his teeth, hoping beyond hope that the pain would abate soon. Desperate for relief, he rolled to the side, pinning the bottle between his hand and his hip until it shattered. He waited impatiently for the pain to subside as it usually did but nothing happened. He tried again, thinking maybe he was just hurt worse than he thought, and one potion wasn’t enough, but again, nothing. If anything it seemed to be getting worse. He had his teeth locked together against the scream that threatened to claw its way out of his throat. Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong. These were not normal bite wounds. He’d been bitten before, and of course it hurt but this was like nothing he’d ever felt before. It was like the center of the wounds were on fire, and each beat of his heart was sent a horrid burning sensation that licked through his nerves, like they were being saturated in acid. Or poison.

As if in conformation, his heart faltered and a deep ache spread through his chest. The sabertusks were poisonous. He knew that certain fiends had been genetically altered to carry elemental properties, which were usually marked by some physical anomaly such as red eyes instead of brown, yellow stripes instead of black, a solid white tail, or a green horn...

He’d fought coeurls that carried electricity in their whiskers and the tips of their tails and spiracorns that could freeze things to the point of shattering with the tips of their horns, so of course it was possible that these sabertusks had a toxic bite. He didn’t even bother trying for an antidote. He didn’t have one. He’d only brought what he’d taken with him to training, which had been a handful of potions.

Distress turned to panic as the gravity of his situation set in; he was gravely wounded, alone, unable to move or call for help as his phone had certainly been destroyed in the thunderstorm, and poison was inching closer to his heart with every beat of it. Nobody knew that he was out here, in fact, he’d taken deliberate steps to mislead them. Even if they did eventually trace his steps back to the convenience store and put together that he’d come out here alone, he’d be long gone by the time they maneuvered the sahagin infested river and tracked him down. He didn’t know exactly how long it would take poison to do a person in, but he imagined it would be greatly affected by the severity of the bite, and he had three bad ones, one of which was very close to his heart and lungs. He wandered distantly if the poison would take him before the daemons did. It would be dark within two hours. He supposed, if he had to choose between the two, getting disemboweled and ripped limb from limb by hobogoblins would probably be the worst way to go. If the poison took him before the daemons did and they managed to find his body before it decomposed in the desert sun, at least there would be something to bury. His heart fluttered rapidly several times, sending searing waves of torture along his nerves and he second guessed his latest opinion. How would it end and how long would it take? Maybe he would just go to sleep, though that seemed too much to hope for. Perhaps his heart would explode, or his lungs would flood and he would drown in his own blood. Maybe his brain would hemorrhage, or his flesh would melt from his bones. He found himself praying for sunset. Death by daemons would not be pleasant but at least it would be over more quickly than the alternative.

He didn’t know how much time had passed. It felt like hours but due to the sun’s position, still low in the western sky, it had probably only been a few minutes. His heart rate was becoming more uneven by the second, sometimes fluttering in rapid succession and other time only producing a beat every seven or eight seconds. He preferred when it beat less frequently, because every pulse was agonizing, sending fresh waves of acid through his veins. He’d given up trying to be quiet and frequent cries worked their way through his teeth. He couldn’t find a good reason to try to hold them in anymore, it wasn’t like there was anyone around to hear them. Hour long minutes passed, and he knew the end was near. While the pain had not eased by a fraction, he found his lungs losing the ability to produce sound and the high pitched keening turned into strangled gasps as breathing became more difficult. His vision started to blur and he was losing the ability to concentrate.

A confusing blend of relief and fear overtook him as death approached. The relief was obvious because it meant that the pain would be over soon, but the fear was an unexpected feeling, because if he’d been asked this morning if he was afraid to die, he probably would have said no. While he imagined this would be the most common answer for someone who was not facing death imminently, he realized that he was not afraid of the act of dying but of what waited for him afterward. He reflected back on his life and his actions, the people that he loved and hated and all of the things that he’d done, good and bad. Had he done enough good things to outweigh the bad ones? What would be waiting for him if not?

He added regret to the tumult of emotions that assaulted him as he thought of Prompto, who had no family to speak of, and no friends that Noctis knew of besides himself, Ignis and Gladio. He would spend his 21st birthday alone and nobody would think to get him anything. Surely he would know that Noctis would want him to have his gaming system, wouldn’t he? Nobody else would want it, and Gladio and Ignis most likely be too distracted to remember his birthday anyway. Would they be held responsible for his death? Would the blame be placed on them for allowing him to go off on his own? At the least, they would lose their jobs and at the worst they could face life in prison or even execution if his father found his death a product of their negligence. Crushing guilt at his own stupidity drown out the fear and he found that his final dying wish was for their safety and freedom.

A bloody cough bubbled up from his throat and when he tried to draw breath it felt like his lungs were being crushed. After the initial panic of suffocation faded, he was overtaken by a pleasant floating sensation. The acidic burning along his nerves was waning as his heart beat more infrequently. He’d lost control of most of his senses at this point. His vision was entirely blacked out, he couldn’t smell the blood and char and burnt metal or feel the rough dirt under his back, but through the subtle roaring in his ears he thought that he heard voices. It was hard to tell, but they sounded male, and he thought they were calling for him. He wandered if it was the Kings of Yore, calling out for him to join them, but he realized as the voices got louder that they didn’t sound happy. They actually sounded frantic. Whatever he was headed towards must be a terrible place, so terrible that the past kings must not want anyone else to join them there. He had to find a way to turn around.

“ _I don’t want to go,”_ he thought. _“I’m not ready. Not yet. I haven’t done enough. I have to make sure my friends will be safe.”_


End file.
